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Obsessed with His Bride

Page 23

by Hamel, B. B.


  He laughed. “I can’t take your money,” he said. “I take your money and my boss asks for a cut of it. I can’t do that shit, you hear me?”

  “Fine,” I said, nodding. “What do you want then?”

  Gerardo’s eyes moved over to Aida. His gaze drifted down her body, lingered on her breasts, and he licked his lips. “Let me get a taste of your girl,” he said. “Just right here, right now. Ten minutes, that’ll be more than enough.”

  I moved fast. I reached out across the bar while he still stared at Aida, grabbed him by the hair, and jerked his head forward. I slammed it down onto the top of the bar as hard as I could. I heard his nose crunch against the wood as it snapped and broke, blood pouring from his nostrils. He stumbled back off his stool, let out a scream, one hand trying to staunch the blood, the other reaching for something in his back waistband.

  “I wouldn’t,” Steven said, up on his feet, his Glock pressed against Gerardo’s head. “I wouldn’t move a muscle, you little prick.”

  Gerardo let out a growl but raised his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” he said as blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt. “What the fuck is with you? I was just fucking around, you fucking bitch.”

  I walked around the bar and pulled my own gun from my waistband. I held it easily in my hand. I could see Aida’s eyes were wide, and I couldn’t tell if she was afraid or excited. I thought it might be both, and the thought brought a smile to my lips.

  “Listen to me,” I said, my voice low. “If you ever insult Aida again, I will kill you. I should kill you now, but you’re still useful. So you’re going to tell me where Vlas is, and in exchange, I’m going to let you leave here alive.”

  “Puto, you fucking pendejo,” he said and spit on the ground. “Fuck you. I’m not giving you shit, bitch. You just started a fucking war, bitch.”

  “Now, come on, Gerardo,” I said. “You think your bosses are going to war with mine right now? They need a new buyer and I’m the only game in town. No, I’m going to tell your bosses that you insulted my woman, and they’re going to drop the whole thing. Or we can avoid that embarrassing situation and you can tell me where Vlas is right now. That way we can all get what we want and move on.”

  Gerardo stared at me and I could see the hate and rage in his eyes. I thought he might do something stupid. Gangsters rarely thought their situation through, but somewhere in his little brain, he knew I was right. I had him over a fucking barrel. With Vlas out of the picture, the Leone Family was the only game big enough to buy their drugs and distribute them effectively. Without us, the Jalisco wouldn’t have a good connection in the city, and they’d have to resort to selling it cheap and piecemeal to all the gangs and smaller families.

  “Fucking bitch,” he said again. “Vlas is going to be in an apartment on South Street, right above that German bar, you know that one? With the big doors out front? That fucking place. He’s not there yet, but he will be there tomorrow night.”

  “How do you know?” I said.

  “Told me himself. He’s paranoid, moving around. He still wants to try and make a deal work with us, the stupid fuck. That enough for you? You want fucking more, puto?”

  “That’ll be fine,” I said then looked at Steven. “Take his gun.”

  Steven knocked Gerardo’s hands away then lifted his shirt and took the weapon gingerly. It was a little six-shooter, a revolver, not the kind of weapon I thought Gerardo would carry. Steven put it down on a table and Gerardo stared hate at me.

  “You want anything else? You want my fucking shirt, too?”

  “No, you’re free to go.” I gestured with my gun. “Better run, too. I might decide you deserve worse for what you said about my girl.”

  Gerardo stood there, glared for a moment, then stalked off. He stomped up the steps, walked to the front door, and threw it open. He disappeared outside and into the early morning.

  Steven let out a breath. “Shit, Dante,” he said.

  I grinned at him. “What?”

  “You think that was smart? Pissing him off?”

  “He’s nothing. Just some overpaid soldier. He doesn’t matter, not anymore.” I turned to Aida and took a step toward her. She bit her lip and tilted her head, and she hadn’t moved a muscle that whole time. “Are you okay?” I asked her.

  She nodded once. “I’m okay,” she said.

  “Good.” I reached out a hand. “I’m sorry for what he said.”

  “It’s okay. I can’t blame him. I do look good today.”

  I grinned as she accepted my hand and I helped her to her feet. Mikey came out from the back, wringing his hands. He looked around, saw some blood on the bar and the floor, then finally looked at the uneaten food.

  “That… didn’t go well,” he said. “Didn’t go well at all.”

  “Sorry about the mess, Mikey. Food looks good though.” I reached into my pocket and took out a roll of twenties, tossing it onto the bar. I think it was about two hundred, but I wasn’t exactly sure, and didn’t really care. “I appreciate your help.”

  He nodded and didn’t move a muscle as I pulled Aida along toward the steps. We walked up together with Steven just behind us, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I led the group back to the car in silence, wary of Gerardo trying to get the drop on us in some misguided attempt at revenge, but we made it with no issues. I climbed up front and Aida got into the back.

  Steven looked a little relieved as he got up front. “What now?” he asked.

  “Now, we plan on a little visit to that apartment tomorrow night,” I said.

  “You believed him?” Aida asked.

  “I did,” I said. “Moving around is exactly something Vlas would do.”

  She nodded and went silent, looking out the window.

  “And in the meantime?” Steven asked.

  “In the meantime, I was thinking we’d start burning this city to the ground.” I gave Steven a wicked grin. “Let’s go to the bakery. We have some plans to put in motion.”

  Steven smiled, shook his head, and put the car into gear. We pulled out and I leaned back in my seat, feeling content for the first time in a while.

  29

  Aida

  The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Dante began to send his guys out on little strike missions, attacking businesses owned by the Russians, stealing all their money, forcing their owners to flip their allegiances over to the Leone Family. All day long, soldiers came and went, some of them bloody from a fight, but each one reported the same thing.

  Success, always success.

  All over Eastwick and Gray’s Ferry, they were winning. The few Russians left in Vlas’s gang were either dead or running. A few buildings were burning, cars were flipped over, blood was spilled. But slowly, Gray’s Ferry was flipping, and Eastwick would be next.

  All the while, we sat in Sergio’s bakery and orchestrated it all from afar.

  Dante paced around the room, barking orders at his men when they came in. I sat in the corner watching, my stomach doing strange flips. All I could do was sip coffee and nibble on a pastry and replay that early morning meeting in my mind.

  Dante didn’t have to hurt that Jalisco guy. He could’ve told him off, or just refused him and made it clear that he was being insulting. Instead, he decided to hurt him, decided to take it far. And part of me felt so excited and grateful that Dante wouldn’t let someone talk about me like that, even if he was a member of a powerful cartel.

  He showed no fear, no hesitation. Dante defended me without a second thought.

  Pride and something else bloomed all through me as I watched my man work.

  Slowly, the day passed. More reports came in, and by the time the sun went down, Gray’s Ferry was completely flipped to the Leone family. Dante put a few of his soldiers in charge of holding it for the time being as he called his victories in to the Don’s man, who sounded very pleased about his progress.

  We ate a small dinner of sandwiches one of his soldiers brought from
a deli down the block. When we finished, it was just after eight in the evening, and Dante stood up. He smiled at me and held out a hand. I stood up and walked to him, and he pulled me up against his chest.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said.

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I hope you like it. Would you like to see?”

  I bit my lip. “I think so,” I said.

  “Good.” He turned and looked over at Ryan who was sitting in the corner. Steven was out supervising their first push into Eastwick and would be busy for the next few hours. “Bring the car around,” Dante said.

  Ryan jumped up and ran outside. Dante smiled at me, took my hand, and led me out to the curb. Sergio stood behind the counter, watching without a word, wiping his hands over and over with a white kitchen towel.

  We stepped out into the night. I leaned up against my man, a smile on my lips. There was a small red stain on his lapel that I hadn’t noticed earlier, and it took me a moment to realize that it was Gerardo’s blood.

  For some reason, that made me reach up and run my fingers into Dante’s hair. I stood on my toes and pressed my body against his, kissing him deep and slow. He kissed me back, a little purr on his lips.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Just because,” I said.

  The car pulled up to the curb and Dante opened the back door. “After you,” he said.

  I got in then Dante followed. He shut the door behind him then leaned forward. “Take us to Lucky’s,” he said.

  Ryan shrugged, put the car into gear, and pulled forward. We glided out into traffic and moved north, winding through the small city streets, through the Girard Estates neighborhood and into Gray’s Ferry. The demarcation wasn’t clear, but I did notice one thing.

  Nobody was out walking the streets past a certain point.

  It was quiet, dead quiet. I saw a laundromat with windows smashed. I saw a car, burned out and half flipped on its side. I saw a bar with its door broken down, smashed into pieces. It looked like a hurricane had ripped through a relatively clean and quiet family neighborhood, and I could only imagine the chaos of the day before.

  My heart was beating fast as Dante took my hand and smiled.

  “This is what happens when someone fucks with me,” he said, nodding at the street. “This is what it’s like to burn the city.”

  “Where are the cops?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  “They were here earlier,” Dante said. “But nobody saw a thing. That’s the beauty of the mafia. Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody talks. Police leave with shit.”

  I looked out the window as Ryan pulled the car over in front of a row of businesses at the end of a block of rowhomes. There was another dry cleaner’s that avoided attack, a Chinese food restaurant, and a bar that was painted red and white on the outside with a big neon sign along the side. The sign said LUCKY’S and glowed a brilliant orange.

  “Here we are,” Dante said. “Ryan, stay here. We won’t be long.” He opened the door and slipped out of the car then helped me out. I stood on the sidewalk, looking at the building. Some of the windows were broken, but not too many, and the door was still on its hinges.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “You’ll see,” Dante said. “Come on.”

  He walked to the door and pushed it open. I followed as he moved into a wide club with a bar to the right. Tables were flipped and there was glass on the floor, and a stage with three stripper poles was positioned in the very center of the large, high-ceilinged room.

  The decor was meant to evoke 1920s glamour, with black and white flapper girls in framed pictures all over the walls. The booths were deep velvet and draped in reds and black. The bar looked like it used to be nice, though the taps were broken and more bottles were smashed.

  Three men stood on the stage. I recognized Biagio, but not the other two. Sitting at their feet, looking bored and annoyed, were eight girls wearing skimpy outfits.

  Dante crunched over the glass and turned as I stopped near the door. He turned and beckoned for me, and for a moment I couldn’t move. I got a strange feeling inside of me, a voice telling me to turn around and get out before it was too late.

  But then Dante smiled and gestured again, and I smiled back.

  I couldn’t help myself. I walked to him and he slipped an arm around my shoulders. “This is Lucky’s,” he said. “Finest gentlemen’s club in the city. Or at least it used to be. This was one of Vlas’s most profitable businesses, and from now on, it’s going to be yours.”

  I looked up at him in shock. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re going to run this place. You’re going to own it. I’ll take a cut of the money, of course, but the profits will largely go into your pocket.”

  I shook my head. “Dante. I don’t know anything about… about running a strip club.”

  He laughed. “You’ll learn. Come on, meet the girls. They’ve been waiting for you.” He tugged me along behind him and gestured at the eight bored-looking women sitting on the stage. Dante gestured at the guys standing behind them and they climbed down, looking relieved.

  The girls stared at us and one of them, a blonde with big fake tits and one too many lip injections, shimmied up onto her knees. “Do you know how long we’ve been fuckin’ sittin’ here?” she said. “I’m so fuckin’ sick of this shit. Are you shuttin’ us down or what? Can I fuckin’ go home?”

  Dante stared at her. “Sit down,” he said.

  She opened her mouth but the redhead next to her tugged on her arm. The blonde grunted and slumped down.

  I stepped up next to Dante and looked at the girls. They seemed tired, upset, and scared. Some of them seemed legitimately pretty. The youngest was probably nineteen, and the oldest was likely in her late thirties.

  “Ladies, this is Aida,” Dante said. “She’s going to be your new boss. You’re all owned by the Leone Crime Family now. If you want to quit your job and move on, I won’t stop you, but choose now. Otherwise, this is your new life.”

  The girls stared at us and the blonde leaned forward. “So you’re sayin’ some random chick is gonna run this place? Can she even, like, I don’t know, do the books or whatever?”

  “I can do the books or whatever,” I said.

  Dante smiled at me and raised his eyebrows. I stared at him for a long moment then reached up and touched his face.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  “I think I do,” I said.

  “Good girl.”

  I stepped closer to my new employees and surveyed them. “Things are going to change,” I said. “This place is going to make money. I need all of you to understand that I’m in charge now, and I’m going to start making changes. You might not like them, and I’ll listen to your suggestions, but my word rules at the end of the day. Any questions?”

  The blonde raised her hand. “Uh, yeah. Who the fuck are you? You’re just some dumb bitch wearin’ that fake knockoff designer shit and you think you can just come in here and—”

  I stepped up to her and slapped her in the face as hard as I could. My palm cracked against her cheek and stung my hand like hell, but her face snapped backwards and she landed back on one elbow, shock in her eyes as her cheek turned red.

  “Get out,” I said.

  “What the fuck, you fuckin’ bitch!” she yelled and tried to jump up, but Biagio was there. He grabbed the girl as she kicked and flailed and screamed curses. He carried her away, back toward the door, and tossed her outside.

  I watched her go and felt something shift inside of me.

  I’d never hit someone like that before. I’d never used violence to dominate before, never even considered it. But now that I’d hit her like that, I realized it felt good… felt really good. I felt strong for the first time in my life.

  Dante was beaming at me like I’d just won some kind of prize.

  I turned back to the other girls and smiled.

  “Any other questions?” I asked
.

  “No,” the redhead said and looked at the other girls. “On behalf of everyone, I just want to say that watching you slap Janice like that was, like, the highlight of my life.”

  “Seriously, that girl was so fucked up,” a dark-skinned girl with straight black hair said. “I hated her so much.”

  “That was, like, the best thing ever,” a little brunette said. She was skinny, all knees and elbows, with tattoos on her skin.

  Even the older woman nodded. She was a little heavier, with lots of makeup, but she smiled. “Welcome to the family, Aida.”

  I grinned at them and nodded. “Good. You can all go home. Day after tomorrow, I want all employees to show up. We’ll clean this place up together and start over. But take tomorrow off.”

  I turned back to Dante as the girls got up. The redhead touched my arm and smiled and they all walked past, chatting with each other, smiling and laughing.

  “That was impressive,” Dante said. “Your first move as a club owner.”

  “Just getting rid of the problems,” I said.

  He chuckled, low and deep, and kissed me. “You never cease to amaze,” he said.

  I hugged him tight and felt his body against mine.

  I was different now and I knew it. I had gone from the quiet, shy, pathetic girl that had a fucked-up father and never once believed she deserved anything good in life… to something stronger.

  All thanks to Dante. I had a new life, a new world. And I wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over me ever again.

  “Come on,” Dante said. “Let’s go check on all the others. I’ll get Ryan to bring you back here tomorrow, and I’ll send a couple guys to help out and act as muscle. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I leaned up against his arm and hugged it tight. I kissed his shoulder and smiled, big and broad.

  I felt like the world was finally beginning to make sense.

  30

  Dante

  I spent the rest of that night in Eastwick with my guys, kicking down doors and clearing out Russians. There wasn’t much resistance, and by the next morning, half of the neighborhood was in our control.

 

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